(By the way, re. the "setting" here: as a result of his penchant for getting on the nerves of those in power, Malaparte spent much of the 1930s in exile and house-arrest in various remote spots... "Fughe in prigione" -- "flight in prison" -- plays ironically against the expectation of "flight from prison"... the milieu here is the isle of Lipari, in the chain of volcanic isles off the north coast of Sicily, the Aeolian archipelago...)

I've just spent some time reading about the Aeolian Islands, which I've never visited. Although I wouldn't want to be a prisoner there (or anywhere), they do look amazing in these photos and seem to be incredibly beautiful.

John, yes, good scary was the intended tenor. (My inner contralto seems to have been put out of action by shrapnel.)

Curtis, yes, one imagines Malaparte's classical sonorities vocalized by night, perhaps in the open air natural amphitheatre situation created by one of those volcanic craters. Just so long as it wasn't erupting at the time (as Stromboli is wont to do).

About the beauty of the locales, those were my thoughts too... can't think of a more beautiful set of places in which to endure internal exile. Stark, austere, grand. Though again, Stromboli... one recalls that Rossellini film (Stromboli, Terra del Dio) in which he makes Ingrid Bergman toil her way up that bleak mountain of hot cinders. The tremendous natural symbolism of the volcano pretty much overwhelms the film's rather delicate story. And I must say, what a way to treat your magnificent main squeeze. As Stephen's charming golden-crowned song sparrow might say, Oh dear!

But while thinking about it a bit, I must also say the fishing sequence in the film is unforgettable.

(Alberto Moravia, by the way, wrote a novel in which a thinly disguised version of Malaparte seems to be taking his exile rather comfortably, "strolling about the beach with his women," etc. My first thought about that -- knowing a bit about writers -- was: Moravia was jealous!)